Clausula est Animis Cadere
by Somnio Amoris
Summary: This is a quick one- shot that I sat down and decided to type away. It is a story based on general mystique so I won't say much here. Please R & R if you decide to check it out ;) [title means: 'The End is to Lose Heart' in latin]


Author's note: I haven't written fanfiction in quite some time. I think it has been at least a year since I last made any efforts to write. Lately I've been somewhat inspired though, and I felt the urge to write this. I know that the original Ranma ½ series isn't so serious and contemplative, but bear with me and you might enjoy this. It is a short one shot thing, and if you don't like it-that's completely cool. I would appreciate some reviews though, so I can get a sense of the overall reaction. Thanks! Disclaimer: Ranma ½ doesn't belong to me, I've just borrowed it as an overall theme to my short story below, so don't sue me! ^_~  
  
A hollow sound escaped into an empty room, and she gazed listlessly after it-- barely interested. The sigh she had emitted hung in the air and danced flirtatiously with itself while the sun jealously shined in through the windows from beyond the accumulating clouds. The paneled pattern on the glass stretched long across the scarcely furnished room in its afternoon radiance, the shadow an ever- present reminder of dwindling time. It wasn't like she hadn't been given enough indications of the way time seemed to slide right through her fingers lately. The Christmas holidays left little to be savored and with mad rushes of bumbling shoppers filling the markets, the opportunity for her to amble through the streets had yet to be taken advantage of. She didn't like the crowds and made a vain effort to avoid them by doing her shopping on Christmas Eve. By then, most of the clumsy and idiotic consumers had purchased their goods and hopefully wouldn't be hazardously stumbling down the roads with gargantuan parcels half blocking their view. Now, as she scrutinized the scenery beyond the fragile glass window of her bedroom, her mind began to wonder with an aimless abandon. Though her sight was fixated on the koi pond that was located amidst the startling green grass of her yard below, she did not see the sparkling clear water. Fabricated within the realm of her mind, she envisioned a young man with muscular physique and silken black hair that trailed down his neck in a masculine braid. He stood resolute and firm, as though no force of nature could move him unless he willed it to do so. His presence reverberated with a command of respect and attention, though his clothes were of simple Chinese style and showed no sign of wealth. Quite suddenly his body shifted in a smooth and flowing fashion and his eyes were set upon her. The endless orbs of the youth sought her out. and a grin spread wide across his chiseled features. Far away, in such a faded time, from that smile erupted a jubilant laugh. It echoed like a brook tripping over smoothed stones obstructing its way. No other voice contained such mirth, attitude, and sheer exaltation as his. In the corner of this subconscious dream, a bell jingled resoundingly and the young man's attention had not missed it. "You know," his voice a heated whisper on her skin. "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings." Despite the fact that he was in the garden below her, she felt his speech as if her soul were a piano that he stroked his fingers over. How long she lingered on this play of mind, and how easily it felt palpable and real to her. As evening stretched its hold on the fiery sky, however, she awoke from this animated state with obvious hesitation. Throwing the day- dream from her thoughts, she recognized that night had crept silently upon her, and it was time to pursue the Christmas Eve duties. With an audible groan the chair on which she had been perched moved away from the small white desk. Moving with grace and a sense of anticipation she gathered her things and made way towards the door where light filtered in from beneath it. Humble things such as this brought happiness to her heart. The way she knew and understood this home-every creaking floorboard and pane slightly amiss-made her feel comfortable and safe. Realizing that stores would soon close up to spend the evening with their own families, she rushed out with resolution to achieve her goal and find the best gift possible. In the young woman's absence stars shone desolately through the window and splattered faint light along the effulgent walls. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was a frigid twilight and the street lamps did a poor job of brightening the lonely streets. A slight rain began to patter and dance in the velvet darkness. It seemed as though a heavy cloak had been carelessly thrown upon the city that eve. Still, she would not be stopped by mere elements. She had a mission and not rain, nor wind, nor snow would halt her in this yearly exhibition. Nothing short of an act of God could keep her from pushing through the dampened fog that clung hungrily to earth. Within only moments of her departure she arrived to her destination and stared blankly at the array of things from which she had to choose. This present could not resemble any gift ever given before by any other person. It had to be unique, special, and utterly amazing in its qualities because it was not for just anyone. Her earlier fantasies returned and once again the sturdy young man stood in her mind's eye. She paused long enough to drink in this image and then, with a gentle swing of her head from left to right, seemed to force it from her mind. She would have plenty of time later to dwell, but this particular task now called for full concentration. Of all the luminous windows lining the street, one caught her attention fairly quickly. Broad letters with the shop's name stretched lazily across the window, and she pressed against it eagerly. From outside she spotted the epitome of her heart's desire and it leapt with unprecedented joy at the discovery. That was what she would buy on this chilly night. Its perfection was unparalleled and none should possess such glory other than her recipient. Upon the purchasing of the gift the young woman set once more to the streets with an added bounce to her step. Content with her choice, she eyed the small bag containing the specialty. A distant yawn of the wind left her unscathed in her ultimate pride. For one instance she felt triumphant and successful, thus making her trip home a journey of bliss. Surprisingly, it had not taken hours of horrid searching on bargained time to find the package she was gripping tightly to her bosom. What she had been dreading and yet waiting with bated breath for, had turned into a relatively easy (although no less meaningful) task. Before she was aware, she had approached her home once more. The familiar glow of light from within warmed her soul with an air of wonderment that would not soon be quenched. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Morning lifted itself with an agonizing pace, but the young woman was far ahead of Mother Nature today. It was Christmas day, and a lilting calm had descended on the entire town. She had woken long before dawn had extended its hand to join the receding darkness of night. Already she had embarked on the ritualistic Christmas morning passage in her comfortable sleep clothes from the night before and slippers to heat her tiny toes. With her she held the gift, still entombed in the plan brown paper bag. The emotion she rarely experienced settled in the pit of her stomach, nervousness. Trying desperately to sweep the overwhelming feeling away she came to a sitting position with the bag placed before her. She was not alone, and so she spoke quietly. "I know this may not be exactly what you wanted," she paused and blush bepainted her maiden cheeks. "But it called to me, I guess you would say." An angelic laugh departed from her lips at the realization of how foolish she knew she must sound. Once more her countenance grew sober as she reached within the bag and withdrew a silver bell so opulent that it put the most beautiful of all the world's art to shame. An intricate ribbon of pure white adorned the modest handle and did it great justice in accompanying the lovely bell. With sudden movement seemingly stirred by all that ever existed in the young woman's soul she gently shook the gift, and it emitted a sound beyond delicate and ethereal that sang upon the wind in a seraphic fashion. A solitary tear plopped on the bell and trailed its length, finally coming to rest on the lower rim. Slender fingers set the gift to rest upon a slab of stone, and the youthful woman delighted in the gesture behind her tears. She stood slowly, and bid farewell to her silent recipient with a wind blown kiss and one last memory to leave imprinted on the time. "Every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings," she whispered, the sentence floating in time for eternity. The rising sun highlighted and caught upon the engraving that marked the stone where the bell with the woman's last tear lay resting. The elegant script read: 'Ranma Saotome, an angel returned to heaven'. And the chill wind fluttered with the dawn's rising rays, carrying with it a single pure white feather. 


End file.
